


I Never Really Thought That You'd Come Tonight

by avantgardish, End_ofall_things



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, POV Ryan Ross, Ryden
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avantgardish/pseuds/avantgardish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_ofall_things/pseuds/End_ofall_things
Summary: Ryan sends Brendon a heartfelt email post-split.This is the first part of a longer fanfic that me and my boyfriend are writing together. I wrote this chapter, he will be writing the next, and so on. There is a lot in store if you want to stay in for the long haul!





	1. Fixation Or Psychosis?

**Author's Note:**

> I've not given a time frame for when Ryan's email is written, because that will be explained in further chapters. Just read from the position of 'time-doesn't-matter' (I'm pretty sure that's what Ryan's attitude is in this email, too).
> 
> Not written anything properly in several years so, I hope you enjoy Part 1!

Dear Brendon,

I’m unsure as to why I’m writing to you. Well, I have a few ideas. Maybe you do, too. But, regardless, I find the uncertainty less exposing. I don’t like exposure any more; I’m a bit more self-preserved than I used to be. 

I was travelling through Seattle the other day and went to the Tractor Tavern. I won’t waste time explaining how I landed myself in there after such a long time, but I did. I entered alone and exited with some pretty girl draped around my right shoulder, and a rugged yet undeniably attractive guy around my left.

It was intense before I left, though. The music was blasting so loudly that the vocals were barely audible; it was just a loud, throbbing beat throughout my body. I ordered a few drinks. A few meaning around seven pints of Broadway Light, possibly five or more heavy liquors, far too many shots, and some other mixtures of unhealthy fluids that made me feel like absolute crap the next morning.

I smoked more than enough pot for it to make the whites of my eyes an offensive colour of red, and took a few pills that looked overly attractive in yellows, pinks and a green that made my head hurt (I swear it was the brightness of the tablet and not the shocking amount of alcohol in my bloodstream).

It’s your fault. It’s your fault that instead of having a couple of drinks and heading to the hotel, I drowned myself in toxicities, heavy music, sex that was as morbid as the time we invited Haley to fuck in Spencer’s shower (their breakup still makes me wince) and, embarrassingly, tears.

I don’t hate you, surprisingly. I really should – I really could, but I don’t really have the malice in me. Fuck, Bren, what I’m about to say is going to be alien to you, but; I miss you.

This isn’t romantic or pretty, or even melodramatic, I just wish we could sit in the same room and exist together. Things couldn’t ever be the same, I know, I know, but that isn’t… I guess, it isn’t a reason to never try again. Don’t click this email off your screen right now. Do not. Please.

It was rough, it was messy, it was painful; it was sweat, fucking in dimly-lit clubs, breaking down at 3AM in hotel lobbies, and playing to crowds who think they know you, but they don’t, they fucking don’t. But it was so beautiful, Brendon. Your voice sang my secrets and it was almost terrifying when I realised how perfect it was. Me and you, we were something explosive. 

When I think of you, I don’t know whether to smile or scream. You fucked me up and that is beautiful, in a dangerous way. It was beautiful when your lips graced mine and it was still beautiful when you told me to leave. Does that make me a masochist, B? Because you hurt me over and over and over and I think it would’ve killed a lesser man, but I was (am) so addicted to you. 

Dumb enough to care too much and young enough to believe in love, I treated every day with you like it was a gift from ‘God’; it wasn’t. Because you’ve gone on to find better things and you seemingly don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything you left behind. 

It’s okay though, Bren. I just wanted you to know that I’ll come running whenever you click your heels. I always have, always will. You probably stopped reading a while ago, and that’s fine, I guess. Just don’t… don’t forget us. Don’t leave us in the past. 

\- Moon


	2. Devoted to Neurosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon does reply, against all odds.

Ryan,

There's so much to process in your email, that it's taken me this long to respond to it. I'm certain you've given up all hope by now but you should know by now, I just can't fucking leave anything alone. I especially can't leave you, you know I never could. You're my biggest weakness and I can't fucking stand myself for it. I've drowned myself too Ryan, in sex, drugs, alcohol, and yeah, tears. We all know I don't have the way with words you do, but I'm going to try and set some stuff straight.

You destroyed the entirety of me, and built me back up again. You broke me and rebuilt me again and again, and where you've been no other can ever go. You've been right inside my head and sown seeds of yourself in there, every time you pinned me down and fucked me till nothing of me was left. In the earliest days I didn't know what was happening to me, to us, I thought it was wrong. I didn't care in the end. 

 

In our last good times I thought it must be love, because all I thought of when I woke up in the morning was the way your skin felt underneath my fingertips, or the way you'd tilt your head at me and smile when I got mad at you. By the time I told you to get out I really realised how sick in the head I was to have ever thought that.

You seem to think you are a “broken man” because you drown your sorrows, but you're wrong. When I'm in a grocery store, I have to get a shopping cart to hide how much my hands shake, I cry in the bathroom and try to hide it from my girlfriend. I avoid bumping into people I know. I've started having attacks again. The only thing that stopped the tension in my body building up was us.

I always thought it was you who did the heel-clicking in the relationship, if you're the masochist Ry, I'm barely human. I don't know what I'm thinking or feeling about you any more, just that when I dream of you I wake up with damp sheets and often when I think of you I get damp eyes.

When I was with you, shit, we were fireworks. Magic, but gone too soon.

If you're looking for a sign, maybe this is it.

\- Sun


End file.
